The Wedding that Changed Everything: a gorgeously uplifting romantic comedy - Jennifer Joyce

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what’s his flaw?’

      A flurry of waiting staff have started to serve dinner, placing bowls of soup in front of the guests, so Alice has a moment to consider the question. Everybody has a flaw – minor or major – and I’m keen to get it out there, so I have all the information available to me instead of the cherry-picked stuff. How else am I supposed to make an informed decision?

      ‘He doesn’t have any,’ she says as the waiting staff move away. She picks up her spoon and starts to dig merrily into her soup.

      ‘None?’

      Alice starts to shake her head, but stops herself and scrunches up her nose. ‘Well…’ The way she drags the word out, I’m expecting something big. He’s perfect apart from his massive foot fetish. Or he’s charming apart from his severe racism. And that criminal record for armed robbery? Nothing to concern yourself with.

      ‘He’s Francelia’s nephew.’ Alice rests a hand on my arm and gives it a gentle squeeze. ‘But don’t hold it against him. He really is lovely.’

      ‘If he’s so lovely,’ I say as Alice resumes her soup-scooping, ‘why don’t you go out with him?’

      ‘For two reasons.’ Alice holds up a finger. ‘One: I’m madly in love with Kevin. And two…’ She holds up a second finger. ‘He’s my step-cousin. It’s icky.’

      Which is fair enough, but it doesn’t help me wriggle out of being introduced to him.

      We move through to the ballroom after dinner, where a band is playing some jazzy numbers and a cocktail bar is set up in one corner, which I intend to make full use of this evening. I’m no doubt going to be introduced to Francelia’s oh-so-perfect nephew – plus any number of potential suitors – so I’ll need the alcohol to get through the evening.

      Alice hands me a menu of the drink concoctions on offer. ‘I’ll head to the bar while you keep your eyes peeled for any possible matches. What would you like?’

      I hand the menu back to Alice. ‘Anything, as long as it has at least three shots and an umbrella in it.’

      I circumnavigate the dance floor, where couples are already twirling away, and make my way to a dark corner where I can hopefully hide away for the evening. I know it will be no use. Alice is determined to couple me up with somebody – anybody – and there is no corner dark enough to protect me from the onslaught. But I have to at least give myself a fighting chance of surviving the week.

      ‘I got you a blood orange margarita.’ Alice pushes a glass into my hands and clinks her own against it. ‘Anybody caught your eye yet?’

      I take a large sip (read: drain half in one go). ‘Nope.’

      Alice’s shoulders slump. ‘I haven’t seen Archie yet, either. I was sure he’d be here.’

      ‘Archie?’

      Alice has been scouring the room with her eyes, but she throws me a contemptuous look now. ‘Francelia’s nephew.’

      ‘Ah. Mr Perfect.’ I drain the rest of my drink.

      ‘You scoff now,’ Alice says. ‘But wait until you meet him.’

      I’m itching with anticipation.

      ‘What was the deal with that woman at dinner?’ I ask, partly to shift attention away from myself and partly because I’m a nosy cow. I regret it, however, when I see a flash of pain cross Alice’s face. She takes a long sip of her own drink before she turns to me, eyes wide and pleading.

      ‘It was a huge mistake, okay? I didn’t do it, no matter what Francelia says. You have to believe me.’

      I straighten, my shoulders whipping back. ‘Always. You know that. I’ll always be on your side.’

      Alice nods, her teeth biting into her bottom lip. ‘It happened years ago, the summer before uni, just before I met you. We were all here, like always, the whole gang. It was the last time the four of us were together.’ Alice pauses, flashing me a pleading look again, silently begging me to believe what she’s about to tell me. I take her hand in mine. ‘One night, Francelia’s necklace went missing. It was this really expensive antique, passed down from her mum’s family for generations. It was so ugly, but Francelia thought she was wearing the bloody crown jewels or something. Anyway, one evening she runs into the dining room, in a proper flap, because her necklace has gone missing. She can’t find it anywhere. She had us searching the entire castle, but it didn’t turn up anywhere.’ Alice squeezes my hand. ‘Until Francelia marched us all to my bedroom and made me empty my underwear drawer. And there it was! Just sitting there. But I swear, Emily, I didn’t take it. I didn’t.’

      ‘I believe you.’ Alice is looking down at the floor, so I gently tilt her face so we’re eye to eye again. ‘I know you wouldn’t do that.’

      ‘Thank you.’ Alice’s voice is hoarse. She leans against me and I wrap my arm around her, pulling her in tight. ‘The thing is, Francelia is adamant I took that necklace and she told everyone. It was humiliating, and now nobody trusts me. Not even my dad.’

      ‘I do. I trust you completely.’

      ‘I’m glad to hear it.’ Alice straightens. ‘Because there’s Archie. Trust me when I say he’s perfect for you.’

      I walked into that one, didn’t I?

      ‘Come on, quick!’ Alice grabs hold of my hand and tows me towards the throng of people. ‘He’s disappearing into the crowd.’ Tugging on my hand, she weaves us between partygoers at an alarming rate. My feet, already aching in the heels I’m wearing, are struggling to keep up.

      ‘Slow down,’ I call out over the increasing music volume as we race across the dance floor, but it’s no use. Alice is on a mission. Nothing can stop her. Nothing, apart from a six-foot gardener stepping into her path.

      ‘Fuck’s sake,’ I hear him growl even over the loud music. He’s batting at his shirt with one hand, where there’s a wet patch soaking through to his skin, while the other holds on to a now near-empty glass. A couple of ice cubes have clinked onto the floor, and Alice has crouched down to scoop them up.

      ‘I’m so sorry.’ Alice plops the ice cubes back into the glass. ‘Let me get you a fresh drink.’ She goes to take the glass, but Tom snatches it away.

      ‘It doesn’t matter. I’m not in the mood anyway.’

      I do not like this guy. He’s about as charming as a bag of steaming dog turds and I can’t understand why Alice and Carolyn were so excited about being reunited with him.

      ‘Let me at least get you a napkin.’ Alice’s eyes move to the damp patch on Tom’s shirt and she pulls a face.

      ‘It doesn’t matter, honestly.’ Tom swipes at the patch and shrugs. ‘It’s only a small spill, and I’ll be getting off soon. I only came to wish Carolyn well.’

      ‘She’ll be thrilled you came. It’s been too long.’

      Tom scratches the back of his neck. ‘Yeah, well, a lot happened back then.’

      Alice nods, her gaze dropping to the floor. ‘It did, but we shouldn’t have let it affect our friendship. We were so close.’ She looks up again, her eyes on Tom, but he’s gazing down at the dregs of his drink and the melting ice cubes in his glass. ‘You were one of my best friends, Tom. I’ve missed you.’

      ‘Look, it’s been great to see you again, Alice, and I’ve enjoyed the drinks and canapés.’ There are canapés? Where? I’ve just stuffed myself stupid with a three-course meal, but I never say no to snackage. ‘But I should get going. Stuff to do, you know? Give Carolyn my regards, won’t you?’ Pressing the glass into Alice’s hand, Tom strides away,

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